Touched by an Angel
by midnightfaith
Summary: Kate writes a letter to Angel


Touched By An Angel

Author- Midnight Faith

Feedback- [missangel186@hotmail.com][1]

Disclaimer- so sick of writing this. Kate n co belong to Joss…

Summary- Kate writes Angel a letter

Warnings- B/A shippers beware. If you're sensitive to moderate swearing and moderate reference to sexual actions hit back now. Also the fic is not beta read (only by me.) I wrote this like three hours ago and I have the flu. So symphathy. 

Spoilers- Much of season 1 'Dear Boy,' 'The Shroud Of Rahmon.' 

Rating- PG-13 for suggestive imagery and moderate to high swearing.

Genre- Extreme angst, short story, Kate's POV. 

Time setting- Season 2. Directly after 'The Shroud Of Rahmon.'

Primary characters- Kate but discussions of Trevor Lockley, Angel, Cordelia, Doyle, Faith and Buffy.

Pairings- A/K suggested.

Distribution- Angel 'n' Kate, Banana Split, Fanfiction.net and possibly Slayer fan fic. Anyone else just ask. 

Dedication- Dedicated to loadsa people. Joss Whedon for creating Kate and Angel, the Angel cast and crew, the good people at channel 4 and sky one who introduced me to Angel, helped along by Claire, George and Emily, without you I wouldn't be watching Angel. Danni for reminding me about Kate and a royal mail ad that gave me the inspiration for this. 

I'm not even gonna put a 'dear' line in this letter. That's what you are aren't you Angel? A dear. Isn't that what Darla called you? Her 'dear boy.' I'm not stupid. You think I haven't read up on you? I know about you and Darla, I know she's you sire. It's right here in this book I picked up from Rick's magick shop. Yeah, he knows about you. When I told him I was looking for a book on Angelus he struck back in fear. But that's what you are. The one with the angelic face. Whoever named you that wasn't wrong. Was it Darla? And how can she be your sire? For god's sake Angel, she's alive, she's human. I heard her breathing. Why didn't you tell me about Darla? Because your Angel that's why. In your world Kate's always the last to know. I waited for you all summer you know. I sat in that stupid office day after day, hoping you'd come and see me, hoping you'd call. And at night I walked the streets of LA the darkest alleyways hoping I'd find you. See if I was telling you this face to face you'd tell me I was stupid. But you know what? I wear a cross around my neck. It still smells of you, you know. It's got your scent on it from that day you let me into your world and showed me who you really are. What are you trying to prove? And don't you know that you don't have to prove anything to me? And I carry another cross. Right next to my gun, top jacket pocket. And you know about that too- because I slammed it in your face two nights ago. And where I used to carry a gun in my boot, I now carry a stake. That's what I've become. And you wanna know who made me that way? You. Some Angel. I still remember the first time I met you. At D'oblique. I loved you the moment I set eyes on you. You were with Doyle and Cordelia. You never told me Doyle died. Can you imagine how that makes me feel? Doyle was my friend too. I miss him. I want to scratch you out. Cos that where you are. Under my skin. And it's like an addiction. Lines of crack are nothing compared to you. When I see you my heart races and my skin hums and there's this high like no other. You're my nicotine. You don't even know it, until now. Can you even remember what it's like to feel someone's heart beat? Your own heart beat? Can you remember what it's like feeling my heart beat against yours? Sensitivity training. It's such a haze but I remember hugging you. You were so cold, just a body of ice. And then my world came crashing down. I loved you, and trusted you and suddenly you were a monster. And even in your vamp face I wanted you so badly. It was like you were saying no. I wanted to kill you that night, drive a stake through your heart. But when it came down to it I couldn't. So I just hurt you instead. And that night I went back to my apartment and sobbed until the Sun rose. My guardian Angel was leaving his city. I wanted you to come round and see me, and reassure me and hug me and comfort me. And I wanted to take comfort in you so badly and you in me. I loved you so much; I couldn't stand the site of you. I would've that night. You only had to ask. Then Faith told me all your secrets. Buffy. The slayer. Would you love me if I was some supernatural freak of nature? Don't you love me because I'm human? If I had superpowers would you love me then? And you know what I did that night. I went home and I had a shower. Put I on the coldest it would go and tried to imagine your hands all over my body. And I don't care about your soul! Cos fuck Angel, I'm so desperate for you to touch me that I hate you. I hate that you can do this to me. And I begged you to hate me. I taunted you over and over again. I wanted to know that you loved me or that you hated me. I have to know Angel; there is no half way. I want you to be mine. Whose are you? Who do you belong to? Darla? Buffy? Well you've got a choice Angel, Your soul or mine. Last night, when you but me do you know what I felt? Euphoria. Shit, I wish you'd turned me, made me yours, let me in your world. Then we'd always have a connection. Angelic intentions huh? But how can I lose my guardian Angel? Last night I went home and I stood in front of the mirror. I ripped the bandages from my neck and I was still bleeding. I ran my fingers over that bite, that touch of an Angel and I stared at the blood on my shaking hands. And slowly, real slowly, I raised my index finger to my lips. I wanted to taste what you had. But it was acid. It corroded my mouth and my tongue was filled with crimson flames. So I washed my mouth out with vodka, feeling sick. Sweet oblivion that's what vodka is. I looked in the mirror. Looked at that touch of an Angel, an ugly purple scar, that touch of an Angel. But it's not ugly. It's beautiful. It's yours and it's mine. Only ours…

   [1]: mailto:missangel186@hotmail.com



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